Ten Years
by TakenHawkeye
Summary: Ten years is a long time. Ten years, and a lot can change. BJ and Hawkeye, in an airport bar, ten years having passed since they last saw each other. Will review all who review me.


"Buy you a drink, stranger?"

Hawkeye, smiling at the sound of the voice, turned from the bar. "Free booze? Of course. But I'll have you know, though I may be cheap, I'm not easy."

BJ grinned, lowering himself onto a stool besides Hawkeye. "We'll see." He paused, taking the other man in. "It's good to see you Hawk."

"It's _great_ to see you." Flagging down the bartender, Hawkeye took the opportunity to look over at the younger man. Ten years had hardly taken their toll on the blonde man, leaving him with a few sparse gray hairs and a few laugh lines running from the corners of his eyes. "You look good, Beej." A pause. "Especially without the mustache."

BJ chuckled, reaching for the shot glass sliding towards him. "Peg cried when she saw it. Made me shave the thing off before I even got home." He narrowed his eyes, looking for the tell-tale signs of age on Hawkeye. His raven hair was now nearly all white, with tiny patches of black around the ears. Glancing at the laugh lines scattered along his face, BJ noticed the dark circles under Hawkeye's bright blue eyes, and the yellow tinge to the taut skin. "You look the same, Hawk. Older, but the same."

Both men nodded, drinking from the glasses before them. After a moment, Hawkeye broke in, serious. "How have you been, BJ?"

BJ sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You had to have read my letters, you know just as well as I do how I've been --"

"I mean really. How have you really been?"

BJ paused, considering this. After a beat, he replied, "I've been good." He glanced over to where the bartender stood. "You want something to eat, Hawk? A flight like yours, you must be starving. They serve pretty decent sandwiches here, no baloney at all --"

Hawkeye shook his head. "I haven't got much of an appetite these days." A glance to his slim frame confirmed this. "Let's just have a few drinks, like the old times."

BJ smiled weakly, nodding. Having ordered two martinis, as dry as could be, he asked, "How about you Hawkeye? You doing good?"

"As good as my letters say." He sighed. "Yeah, I've been good."

There was an awkward moment of silence. "Ten years is a long time."

"I know."

"I've missed you."

"I know." Hawkeye hesitated. "I've missed you too." They sipped at their drinks.

"How's your father?" BJ reached for a napkin and slowly started to tear it into tiny shreds.

"He's getting on. Arthritis acts up every so often, but he's doing fine. How are the kids?"

"They're great. You should see Erin, she looks more like her mother every day." BJ dug a hand into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Digging through it for a moment, he extracted a photo. Hawkeye reached for it, smiling at the proud beaming look on the other man's face. "That was last year, Erin's birthday."

Hawkeye stared down at the picture of a smiling family, a sign behind them wishing Erin a happy birthday. "You've got a beautiful family, Beej."

"I know."

They fell silent again, straining to ignore the awkwardness between them. Hawkeye continues to sip at the martini before him while BJ watched.

"So, uh . . . "

BJ shook his head and took a deep breath. "Hawk, what the hell are you doing here?"

Hawkeye stiffened. Turning to stare at BJ, he asked, "What are you talking about, I'm here to --"

"Ten years, Hawkeye, ten years! No one has seen you for ten years, not since Radar's funeral in '54. I find out you're not even writing any of the others, that I'm the only person who's heard a word from you in ten years. And then you suddenly call me up, telling me to meet you at an airport bar in San Francisco, that you're here for a visit. What the hell, Hawk. You just disappear for ten years, then show up in San Francisco?"

Hawkeye looked away, silent. "How are the others?"

"How are --" BJ's jaw clenched as he fought to keep from lashing out. "They're good. Potter's been having a bit of heart trouble ever since his wife died last year, but he'll be fine. Margaret got married, three years ago. To Scully, remember him? Happier than she's ever been. Klinger just got back from Korea seven years ago, Soon Lee and her whole family with him. He's got three kids now, did you know that?"

Hawkeye opened his mouth to retort.

"No, no you didn't know that, because you haven't bothered to call or even write any of them. Charles is thriving, managed to pull through after that stock incident. He's living with his sister Honoria, still in Boston. No one's spoken to Father Mulcahy since the funeral, no one can. He's managed to pin down sign language, can talker fast with his hands than he ever did with his voice, but none of us can understand what he's saying. His letter's say he's good, but -- god dammit Hawk, ten years!"

"I'm sorry."

"You're _sorry_? Do you know how hurt everyone's been? Do you know how badly they all feel that you won't even call? Trapper got divorced five years ago, after his daughter died, and you know who he called? Me, Hawkeye. First time I met the guy was in Iowa, and he calls me. Said he couldn't get a hold of you, ended up staying in my guest bedroom for a month."

Hawkeye look up, eye wide. "His daughter --"

"Becky. Got hit by a car, right in front of their house. Died on impact. His wife left him three months later."

"My god. Trapper. He's got to be -- how'd he --"

"He's better now, got some counseling, calmed down. He was right near suicidal when he first came here. He needed you Hawkeye, we all have and you just --"

"I'm here now."

BJ turned away, fighting his anger. "Why are you here?"

Hawkeye sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I saw Potter last week. Went to Missouri myself. You're right, he's doing good. His health is great."

"Hawkeye --"

"He told me I should come see you next. I was going to make you last, you know. Come out here after I saw all the others. But he's right, I should have come to you first."

Suddenly BJ's anger towards the other man gave way to concern. "What the hell is going on, Hawk?"

Hawkeye reached for his glass, downing the liquid left in the bottom. BJ stared, brow knitted with confusion and worry, biting on his lip.

"Leukemia."

BJ stopped for a second, his breath caught in his throat. A moment passes before he managed to whisper out, "Cancer?"

"It's still early, but it's serious. I haven't got all that long. A year at best."

"A year . . . " BJ trailed off. Eyes wide, he quickly took a swig of the martini in his hand. "You're dying."

It wasn't a question, but Hawkeye nodded all the same.

Pausing, BJ turned to face Hawkeye, eyes shinning with the makings of tears. "It's good to see you Hawk."

Hawkeye smiled, reaching out a hand to pat BJ's shoulder. "It's good to see you too, Beej."


End file.
